


Lips Sweeter Than Wine

by Asrael_Valtiri



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Feelings, First Kiss, First Time, Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux are very good boys, M/M, Plum wine is delicious, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Virgin Kylo Ren, the ice blue couch, the robe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 04:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20419640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asrael_Valtiri/pseuds/Asrael_Valtiri
Summary: For Kylux xoxo Summer Fest 2019- Summer Love (Oh/Love/Sweet)Perhaps if he can convince Ren to stay and have a glass of plum wine, Hux can finally find out what is under the mask.





	Lips Sweeter Than Wine

The quiet suited Hux. Perhaps some would be surprised by how he relaxed. The stern, coldly efficient general with precise posture striding around the bridge with his uniform just so. And now, he sat curled upon his surprisingly comfortable ice blue sofa, glass of plum wine in one hand, real book in another, and his cat perched behind him.

No one else came here. His own oasis. Perfectly matching his secret aesthetics—the wintery blue offset his hair nicely, and the shiny black of the Finalizer’s walls looked surprisingly elegant with the lighter furniture. Yes, this room made him as close to happy or relaxed as he could be.

He rested his head lightly against Millicent, and she chirped at him. His robe was loosely closed, and he felt a chill; he pulled it more tightly around him and reached for a blanket to spread over his legs. He continued reading, ready to turn a page, when his door alerted him that someone was outside.

He huffed in annoyance and reached for his datapad on the endtable.

“What is it?” he asked, pulling up door’s visuals. “Oh, damn,” he muttered to himself.

“Let me in, General,” Kylo Ren demanded.

“Whatever it is, Ren, you do have the authority to deal with it.”

“It’s not—it’s. Just let me in.”

“One moment, and I’ll take you to my office.”  
  
“No. Now, General.”

And Ren unceremoniously opened his door, and just as unceremoniously Force-closed it.

“You’d best hope my door didn’t just break, Ren,” Hux said cheerfully.

Ren stalked into the room. Hux could feel his gaze taking in his chambers, his cat, his body. He knew Ren was surprised by the way he paused, the manner in which his helmet moved around the carefully appointed space: couch in the center; desk looking out the viewport, many shelves of books and datapads; a cabinet full of alcohol, one of Hux’s few luxuries. And rare splashes of color--hair, cat, couch, the brilliant red of an Ithorian liqueur.

Hux had never seen Ren without the mask. Ren was huge, but not so huge he couldn’t be human. Humanoid, certainly; not that Hux cared, despite the First Order’s official stance on non-humans, which he found completely asinine, considering Snoke. Hux didn’t really care who or what you were, as long as you were competent. He felt the same when it came to sexual partners.

Oh, yes, he was very curious about Kylo Ren. What face he hid beneath that mask.

He let his robe fall open, slip from his shoulder, just enough. Of course, this could be a pointless endeavor, if Ren truly held tightly to his celibacy, or if he didn’t prefer human males.

Well, Hux thought, let’s just see.

Ren’s posture stiffened.

Curious.

“Well, since you’re here,” Hux said and rose, “might as well have a seat.” He gently swayed his hips as he fetched another glass from his liquor cabinet.

“No, I should—” Ren’s voice petered out as he watched Hux turn his head to look over a bared shoulder.

“Well, you came for a reason,” Hux said with a shrug and pulled up his robe, “might as well have a nightcap, Ren.”

Ren cleared his throat.

Hux returned to his seat gracefully and swept out a hand to indicate the place beside him. He noticed with dismay that Millicent had fled. Typical. Thanks for the backup, Millie, he thought.

Ren sat awkwardly on the other side of Hux’s ice blue sofa, as far as he could get.

Not promising.

It was not that Hux thought he himself was particularly attractive. He was surprised the first time an old Imperial had propositioned him. He was used to the desperation of cadets, but the insistence of an experienced old man who could essentially coerce anyone into pleasuring him had shocked Hux; he’d found himself taking easy advantage of that old man, and that shocked him too. Other men found him slim enough, fair enough, that they could project their fantasies onto him, and if he used that to his advantage, well—who could fault him?

Similarly taking advantage of his own underlings, however, repulsed him. He knew he could have someone like Mitaka, for instance, who idolized the Order’s and Empire’s youngest general.

Not what Hux wanted.

Ren, though—he was not Hux’s subordinate. Human or not, he was an option. Even though Hux knew someone with this perfect body mightn’t have any desire for him, he knew how to flirt, to work his very few charms to his advantage.

Or not. Ren wasn’t looking at him.

And honestly, why would he? Hux knew he wasn’t much to look at. What if Ren wasn’t horribly disfigured under that mask?

What did he hide under there?  
  
What was Snoke hiding?

Ren watched Hux’s pale, delicate arm extend, and his pale, delicate wrist pour a few ounces of plum wine into a second glass.

“Here, Ren. Have some. Now, what can I do for you?” Hux asked and, leaning back, crossed his legs.

“I went to Starkiller today.”

“Ah, yes! If I’d known, I’d have shown you around.”

“No, I wanted to see it for myself. It’s...very impressive.”

“Thank you.” Hux smiled.

“It’s brutal,” Ren said dourly.

Hux’s glass paused on its way to his mouth. So much for testing the waters of Kylo Ren.

“Yes,” he replied slowly, “yes, it is. But we view the collateral damage as necessary so as not to prolong the war. My hope is that by destroying the seat of the Republic, we can spare that many more lives with a preemptive strike.”

“Do you believe that?” Ren asked gruffly.

“I...I hope for it, very much, Ren.”

“Interesting,” Ren said.

“What?”

“I just assumed you were incapable of caring about—well, anything. Beyond duty and domination, I mean.”

“There’s much you don’t know about me, Ren,” Hux said coldly, quietly, dismay growing in his gut.

“I’m glad,” Ren said.

Hux looked at him.

The helmet looked back. He knew Ren was appraising him, but not the manner of the appraisal.

He poured himself more plum wine. Took a sip and licked the sweetness from his lips. Ren continued watching him.

“Is it always cold down there? Even in summer?” Ren asked.

“Yes. Part of the reason it was chosen. Very little life to disrupt.”

Ren hummed and cocked his head.

“Drink, please. Since we’re having an actual conversation for the first time. Quite an accomplishment.”

Ren reached for the glass, dwarfed by his huge hand. Hux wondered how that hand would feel on his skin.

Oh, yes. Despite his anger at having his co-commander foisted up on him, he’d been fascinated by the masked and melodramatic oddball from day one. The longer grew their strained acquaintance—because Ren was so bloody awkward and demanding and angry—the more inclined toward illicit fantasy Hux became. He could feel his face flush now as he watched Ren’s arm bend with a flex of muscle to his mouth.

Ren paused.

“I shouldn’t. No, I can’t.”

He held the glass just below his mask. His face. Kriff, Hux was suddenly seized by the need to see Ren’s face so fucking badly.

“Just take it off. It’s fine, Ren. No one else will see you,” Hux breathed.

Ren hesitated.

Hux reached out toward him, but Ren grabbed his wrist before he could touch him. Hux gasped, and Ren shuddered.

“It’s okay, Ren,” Hux whispered, and Ren relented as Hux reached forward to touch the mask, Ren’s fingers gentle on his wrist. Hux stroked the chromed cheeks of the mask, danced his fingers over the brow.

Ren’s breath hitched and then grew heavy.

“Take if off. Try the wine.”

“I’ve never had that before—”

“It’s plum wine. It’s sweet,” Hux whispered.

Ren put down the glass and simultaneously reached for his mask.

Hux began to breathe more heavily. His heart began to pound in his chest. This went beyond anticipation. He suddenly felt as though his future could be revealed the moment Ren took off his helmet. joy and arousal and trepidation warred within him as Ren released the catches and began to pull off his face.

Hux was overcome with a moment of fear, nearly wanted to stop Ren.

A pale, round chin and soft jaw appeared, curling black hair; a strangely delicate throat that Hux dearly longed to bite. He began to salivate.

Ren paused at his mouth and reached for his wine, dipped his tongue delicately into the amber liquid. Hux wanted that little pink tongue on his skin. He could barely breathe.

“Huh,” Ren huffed. “It is sweet.” Those full, red fairy tale lips smiled, and Hux nearly perished at the sight of those lips framing Ren’s adorably crooked New Republic teeth.

“Take it off, Ren,” he managed to whisper again.

Ren hung his head but made no motion to adhere to Hux’s suggestion.

Hux moved to kneel beside him.

“It’s okay, Ren, here, let me—” and he placed his hands on the mask, surprisingly heavy as it was, and finished the job. Hux held the mask to his bared chest as he watched Ren turn his face away, his hair covering it, and take another drink. Ren downed the whole glass in one swallow.

Hux put the mask down on the floor. Gently, he placed his hand against Ren’s cheek and turned him toward himself.

Oh, kriff.

Ren’s dark doe eyes darted away as Hux’s gaze claimed each mole, freckle, each perfect feature, his long nose and crooked jaw and perfect everything. He could only stare.

Ren used the Force to pour himself more wine, which he chugged quickly, before he sighed and said, “Sorry, disappointing, I know.”

“No, Ren,” Hux groaned.

And tenderly took Ren’s actual, real, and lovely face in his hands and kissed him.

If Ren were his future, he was probably doomed, starting now. But he didn’t care, not when he finally knew there could be such beauty in the universe.

He pulled himself away and stared some more.

“What—” Ren stammered. “Are you drunk?”

“I’ve had not even two glasses, Ren. No, of course not.”

“Oh. I think I am.”

“What?”

“I never drink. I hate alcohol. But that’s good.”

“You’re babbling. I’m sorry, should I not have kissed you?”

Ren look down.

“Why,” he asked, “would you want to?”

“Ren, Ren,” Hux murmured, “baby, how could you even ask that? You—I had no idea you were so beautiful.”

“You are drunk,” Ren laughed.

“May I kiss you again?”

Ren looked at Hux, as if to gauge his earnestness. He could tell with a look that Hux meant it.

“Please,” Ren whispered.

And this time, Ren’s mouth met his, after a fashion.

Hux licked and nipped at whatever part of Ren’s face he could get, as Ren clumsily plastered his lips to Hux’s nose, his chin—everywhere but his mouth, and Hux realized with a soft laugh that this was Ren’s first kiss. As they kissed, Ren pushed Hux onto his back.

Ren pulled away gasping after a while.

“That was your first kiss, wasn’t it?” Hux asked, grinning up at Ren. His robe was loose, his slim chest bare, a tiny pink nipple attracting Ren’s attention. Ren’s hand held Hux’s pale thigh. Despite everything, Hux’s body sang with pleasure.

“No.” Ren said. He blushed charmingly.

“Yes, it is. It’s all right. Only, your aim was off. You were kissing my nostrils,” Hux chuckled.

Ren frowned. “I can do better.”

He grabbed the wine and drank more.

“Give me!” Hux demanded.

Ren contritely handed it to him, and he too chugged straight from the bottle. Normally, he would find such behavior undignified and a pisspoor way to treat good alcohol. But that was before Ren was here with him, kissing him. He felt the wine heat his body, and wanted Ren to lick the sweetness from his lips. He put the empty bottle down and reached for Ren.

“Kiss me again,” he begged, arching his back to raise his chest to meet Ren’s in what he hoped was a tantalizing way.

Ren fell upon him, devouring him. They tasted their true flavors through the plum wine, and Ren’s bouquet, his feel, his flavor, was such a heady concoction that Hux began to whine and clutch at Ren greedily. To devour and be devoured by this man became Hux’s motivation, his greatest desire.

He knew this was inadvisable, but his curiosity and fantasies culminated in this one overwhelming need for Kylo Ren. He could see their life unfurling in his mind, and he couldn’t believe what that might mean. No equation, no evidence could support a fact so incomprehensibly weird as what he knew was happening. Perhaps magic did exist, and it would torment him and his vaunted science with the knowledge that Armitage Hux was quite suddenly, perhaps irrevocably in love with—

No no no no, he told himself.

And he clutched at Ren even more desperately, hands in Ren’s hair, on his chest, groping his perfect ass.

Ren’s hands traveled from Hux’s hair to his face; his lips trailed down Hux’s neck—he was learning, Hux found, very quickly. And then Ren’s hand slid down his chest and began to undo his robe’s belt.

“Woah, woah, Ren, baby,” Hux said and tugged that soft, lush, dark hair to make Ren look at him. “Easy, baby, easy. We don’t have to rush.”

Hux caught on very quickly that Ren reacted quite nicely to being called “baby.” Ren whimpered and whined and melted each time Hux said it. And, unfortunately, they both grew harder as a consequence.

“Want you, please,” Ren begged.

“Don’t want to make you, if you aren’t ready, Ren,” Hux softly told him, stroking Ren’s pale, dear, freckled cheek.

“Please,” he whimpered again and opened Hux’s robe.

Hux wore nothing beneath it, and it had become so rumpled that it wasn’t really covering Hux at all; but Ren unwrapped him now like a precious, desired Life Day gift, and Hux quivered as Ren’s knuckles skimmed his hips, his bright thatch of hair.

“Oh, stars,” Ren breathed, staring. “You’re red there too.”

“Well...yes, Ren!” Hux spluttered.

“You’re beautiful,” Ren murmured.

Hux stopped breathing.

That couldn’t be right.

Ren was perfect. Exquisite. Hus was—not.

Ren pulled off his own robe, his cowl, his tunic.

Yes, Ren was perfect, Hux thought as he gazed upon those perfect tits, muscular yet soft and ripe enough to bite.

He sat up and did just that. He took one of Ren’s nipples in his mouth.

“Can you do that? Holy kriff,” Ren moaned.

“I can do more,” Hux said around a mouthful of tit. Ren clutched his fingers in Hux’s vibrant hair.

“Show me, show me.”

Somehow, they got Ren’s trousers off. Hux sat on Ren’s thighs staring down at him, overcome. Hux’s robe opened fully, revealing his long, lean lines, his delicate beauty to Ren’s wide eyes.

They both stopped everything for a few moments, perhaps not even daring to breathe, as they gazed at one another. Then Hux’s hand slowly traversed up Ren’s body until it skimmed along his clavicle and up his throat to his jaw.

“Are you sure, Ren?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready?”

“Please, Hux.”

Hux lowered himself until they were chest to chest, their erections touching, and kissed Ren’s mouth. He moved down Ren’s body.

Ren was meant to be fucked. To be worshiped. Anything else was desecration. Heresy. Hux adored Ren’s body, and Ren rose to meet his mouth, his fingers, his teeth. Hux kept it slow, and Ren writhed beneath him, Hux’s own patron deity. This sofa his altar, this room his temple, and Hux his high priest.

“Can I fuck you, please?” Ren asked. His face was red, his eyes glassy. Hux nodded, impressed with his virginal stamina. Normally, a first time would be over by now.

Well done, Force, Hux thought.

Hux showed him how to use the lube, how to work him with his huge fingers. Ren grinned and pushed him onto his back again. And then he began to give Hux the same treatment orally Hux had given him.

But Ren caught on so quickly! Hux gasped and yelled under Ren’s ministrations. He buried his fingers in Ren’s hair as Ren consumed him, as Ren’s fingers found his prostate, and Ren’s tongue found a way to make Hux scream his name, as he came, even as Ren refused to remove Hux’s cock from his mouth, and Hux’s cum dribbled down his chin as he swallowed.

Even as he was screaming Ren’s name more loudly than he’d ever screamed, coming harder than he’d ever come, Hux groaned as he watched Ren swallow.

There. His offering to his god of sex and beauty and love.

He shifted and raised his legs and beckoned Ren to him.

“In me now, you monster,” he purred.

Ren smiled.

Hux guided him in.

“That good?” Ren asked, suddenly shy, suddenly, adorably uncertain.

“Perfect, perfect, oh perfect boy,” Hux said. He leaned up to rest his hand on Ren’s cheek and kiss him. “Now, start slow, Ren. Use more lube if you need to. I’ll tell you if you need to stop. It’s okay.”

And Ren slowly moved inside Hux, whilst Hux wrapped his arms around Ren’s neck.

Somehow, Hux thought in wonder, two very tall men managed to solidly fuck on his ice blue couch.

He squeezed his eyes shut and murmured, “Faster, faster,” in Ren’s ear. Ren grunted and whimpered in Hux’s ear, and Ren’s breath made Hux harden again and come, just a little. Ren yelped as Hux came, and followed with his own release, as they clung together.

Hux lay back and pulled Ren atop him. He stroked Ren’s hair and whispered quietly as Ren sobbed against his chest.

“Oh, Ren, Ren, such a good, perfect boy,” Hux said. His own eyes were closed. He didn’t trust himself to open them and see Ren crying. He knew he would be ruined even more than he already was. He took as deep a breath as he could manage with Ren on him.

“Was I bad?” Ren asked.

“No! No, baby,” Hux cooed and stroked his hair, his face, his shoulders. “I...I think you’ve ruined me for anyone else, actually.”

Ren huffed a laugh. “Good.”

Hux smiled. “Don’t let it go to your head, Kylo Ren.”

Ren hummed and dozed.

And Hux knew he was doomed. He loved Kylo Ren.


End file.
